Christmas with the Maverick Millionaire Read online

  Mitch’s heart gave a little surge. ‘Hey, mate,’ he said, sitting in the chair next to Brian and lifting his gloved hand to clasp the boy’s.

  This was why he did this. This was why he was determined to complete the tour. Nothing could get in the way of this.

  Not even a beautiful nurse.

  * * *

  Sam’s anger had only lasted about twenty seconds. Once she’d realised Mitchell hadn’t just dived off to the slopes without her she dressed as quickly as she could. Her nurse brain was ticking. She grabbed extra supplies just in case in his rush to reach the hospital he’d forgotten his insulin and testing equipment.

  The snow was much heavier today, the car tyres barely coping on the ten-minute drive. She wasn’t used to this. Dave had assured her that driving wouldn’t be a problem, but shouldn’t she have those snow things on her tyres?

  Lisa was panicking. Two of her staff were out with norovirus and the two replacements she’d tried to call were unavailable. She took one glance at Samantha and gestured her over. ‘Mitch told me about the diabetes, so I know why you’re here. But what do you know about cystic fibrosis?’

  Sam blinked. ‘Eh, quite a lot, actually. That was the job I was supposed to be doing before I took the job with Mitch. I was supposed to be a specialist for a little boy with the disease.’

  ‘So you’ve dealt with it before?’ Lisa wasn’t wasting any time.

  She nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘What about oxygen regimes and doing chest physio?’

  She was beginning to sense where this was going. ‘I’m fine with all that. Do you need some help, Lisa?’

  Lisa turned the computer around and pulled up the web page for the UK national nursing body. ‘Are you registered as Samantha Lewis?’

  She smiled and bent over her, typing in her name and bringing up her registration status. ‘That’s me. Paediatric nurse and registered general nurse.’

  Lisa turned to face her, desperation in her eyes. ‘I wouldn’t ask but...’

  ‘What do you need?’

  ‘Could you special a seven-year-old boy with cystic fibrosis for the next few hours until I can find someone else?’

  Samantha nodded. ‘I’m happy if you give me some background on the little boy.’ She glanced down the corridor. ‘I should check first. Is Mitchell okay?’ Her fingers were jiggling the insulin pen in her pocket.

  Lisa smiled. ‘I put some food in the room earlier for them both. Everything should be fine.’ She reached over and touched Sam’s arm. ‘You’re good for him, you know.’

  She was surprised. ‘I am?’

  ‘Take it from someone who’s watched from the sidelines all these years. I was pretty shocked when he told me about his diabetes diagnosis. He might not give it away to the press, but Mitchell Brody is a control freak. I don’t envy the job you have.’ She gave her a wink. ‘But I think you’ve got it covered.’

  She waved her arm along the corridor. ‘Now, come with me so I can find you some scrubs for the next few hours and give you a rundown on our patient. And, Samantha—’ her grey eyes were serious ‘—I can’t thank you enough for this.’

  She felt a little flush of pleasure. She’d been looking forward to working this Christmas with the little boy she knew with CF. It was a real, hands-on nursing job. Sometimes she missed that. School nursing was great, very diverse with lots of social issues as well as health ones. But sometimes she missed doing the actual physical care.

  It only took five minutes to change into a pair of pink scrubs and flat shoes. Lisa briefed her on the patient and she had a quick read over his notes. Rudy Jones had a lung infection, which was exacerbating his condition. The thick, sticky mucus in his lungs was making it difficult for him to breathe and his oxygen saturation was low.

  ‘Hi, there, Rudy.’ She walked into his room with gloves and mask in place. It was important not to introduce Rudy to any further germs. His defences were already low and his medication chart showed he was on two different types of antibiotics and some steroids. The bronchodilator that was currently running was causing little clouds around them.

  She sat down next to the bed and spent the next ten minutes talking to him. He was frail, with an oxygen monitor attached to one finger. It was clear he was underweight—as a lot of the children with CF were because they couldn’t digest certain nutrients in food.

  It was easy to see how much strain his body was under. All the accessory muscles around his chest were working overtime. It was important to try and relieve some of the pressure on his lungs by loosening some of the mucus. Physiotherapy was a daily part of a CF child’s life. Sometimes it could be fun, but sometimes it could be exhausting and difficult. Samantha was lucky. She’d had specialist training when she’d been a sister in ICU, so it meant she knew exactly how to help.

  ‘Rudy, have you got a device to help with your physio?’

  He nodded and pointed to the top of the locker. There was a ‘flutter’—a handheld device shaped like an asthma inhaler—that delivered vibration to the airways of the lungs, making it easier to cough out mucus.

  ‘Okay, we’re going to start the active cycle of breathing techniques. Are you ready?’

  He nodded and they moved the pillows on the bed to make him more comfortable.

  She positioned her hands carefully to complement his breathing cycle of deep breaths, ‘huffing’ and coughing. She worked with him, vibrating certain sections of his chest with his huffing and coughing to try and loosen the mucus in his lungs and let him cough it up. It was a slow, painstaking process, with her monitoring Rudy throughout. He managed to expectorate quite a bit of mucus with the help of his ‘flutter’ device.

  By the end he was exhausted—just as she’d expected he’d be. But his breathing was a little easier and his oxygen saturation had climbed a few digits. She wondered how Mitch was doing with Brian. Being with a kid like that would stir up a lot of memories for him. Here’s hoping he wouldn’t forget about his diabetes in the process.

  His dedication here was much bigger than she’d expected. He showed real commitment to this place. And it was clear it was genuine.

  When other stars were involved in places like these they usually had the paparazzi positioned on the doorstep or a camera crew filming their ‘charitable’ work.

  Mitch was nothing like that. He was here because he wanted to be.

  He was here because he cared. And it made her like him all the more.

  She smiled at Rudy. Time to get the little guy to eat and increase his calorie intake. ‘Okay, Rudy, what’s it to be? Custard or chocolate pudding?’

  * * *

  Today had been the best day yet.

  She’d managed to help a child when she’d needed to, and she finally felt as if she knew Mitchell a little better.

  He wasn’t the playboy rock star the media portrayed at all. He was sensitive, stubborn beyond all belief and had a serious, unwavering commitment to this hospital and its patients. She actually wondered if it was a little to his detriment. Was there something she didn’t know? Obviously, there was.

  Mitchell had been so focused on young Brian today he’d pushed everything else aside. She hadn’t ignored her responsibility to him. And it was clear Lisa was wise beyond all measure. Any time she’d enquired about what was going on in the barrier nursing room, Lisa could tell her about food intake, blood sugars and insulin doses. It was clear, now she knew what was going on, that she understood completely. If Sam hadn’t been happy that Mitchell was stable, she couldn’t have helped with Rudy. Lisa had clearly been giving him ‘prompts’ as she’d dealt with Brian, in order to keep both her desperately needed assistants in place.

  It wasn’t as if she couldn’t see into the room. She could. Young Brian had deteriorated quickly since yesterday, his colour and skin tone frightening. But she could see Mit
chell—even if he didn’t notice her. He was engrossed in talking quietly to Brian, entertaining him, being supportive.

  One week ago she wouldn’t have believed this. She would have searched around for the secret camera crew that must be filming Mitchell Brody doing his superstar ‘good deeds’. But nothing could be further than the truth.

  A regular nurse for Rudy had shown up around thirty minutes ago, just when she’d finished all the physio and then spent an hour trying to encourage him to eat. But she didn’t mind. She loved working with kids. It made her feel useful. It made her feel worthwhile. This job with Mitch was the strangest she’d ever had. It didn’t help that he was blurring a lot of lines for her.

  He gave her a nod through the glass. It jolted her. She’d thought she might as well have been invisible. She held up the little sign she’d made, letting them know when Brian’s dad’s flight would land. There was no point in her going into the room and potentially exposing Brian to more bugs. The fewer people in his room the better.

  Mitchell gave her a thumbs-up and wrote her a reply.

  Dinner tonight in Innsbruck. 8 p.m.

  She tried to ignore the flutter in her chest or the way her stomach just flipped over. He’d promised to take her out for dinner and show her around the city. Now that he knew when Brian’s dad was arriving, it was clear he meant to see it through.

  She tried to appear casual, giving the slightest nod and wave before strolling back down the corridor. What on earth would she wear? She didn’t have any dressy clothes with her. She hadn’t thought she would need any.

  Lisa caught her puzzled look. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘What do you wear to dinner in Innsbruck? It’s minus four outside and I have no idea what to wear.’

  ‘Something with an elastic waistband,’ was the instant response.

  Samantha smiled. Now, that did sound good. She hadn’t had a chance to eat in the city yet. Most of the food in Mitch’s house was very traditional. It would be nice to sample some of the local delicacies.

  Lisa touched her hand. ‘And definitely always leave room for pudding in Austria.’ Her eyes ran up and down Samantha’s frame. ‘You know, I might have something I can lend you. We look around the same size.’

  ‘You do? That would be great.’

  Things were looking up. She didn’t have any doubt that whatever Lisa had it would be perfect. Probably a hundred times better than anything she could have brought from home. She looked out of the window at the view of the city beneath them. The sun was beginning to set, sending a warm glow over the snow-topped roofs and coloured houses. The white-tipped mountain peaks seemed to blush pink at sunset. The lights in the houses underneath twinkled. It looked magical, as if anything could happen down there. The question was, did she want it to?

  * * *

  It was like having two mother hens pecking at him now. Mitch almost regretted telling Lisa about his diabetes as she’d clucked around him all day about eating, testing and injecting. And he really didn’t like thinking of Samantha as a mother hen, because he had a whole host of other ways he could think about her...

  It had been a whole week and he hadn’t even taken her to the city yet. What an appalling host. His mother would be enraged. She’d brought her children up to have much better manners than that.

  Tonight he would be the perfect host. Tonight he would show her the wonders of Innsbruck, all while trying to keep his hands to himself.

  He left his black shirt untucked with the first two buttons undone. Mitchell Brody didn’t dress up. He’d thought about taking her to one of the many local gourmet restaurants, before finally deciding to take her to one of his favourite Alpine inns. She’d never seen the Christmas market before and he wanted her to have time to wander around without being tied to a dinner reservation.

  He glanced at his watch. It was only seven-thirty, but hopefully she would be ready early and they could head down the mountain. Now that Brian’s dad had arrived, he felt as if he could finally relax.

  It happened every time. Every time one of the kids he’d bonded with got sick, he couldn’t get them out of his mind. The pale skin, the bruising, the lack of energy and appetite. Just like his brother.

  It didn’t matter that his brother lived a healthy life now. While they’d been there as children they’d seen other friends become sick and slip away. That reality was still there now, and he couldn’t let that affect his work with the hospital. In fact, it made it much more important. Every family should feel supported, no matter what the outcome for their child. His tour money would allow that to continue in an environment more appropriate than they had now.

  He’d been surprised to see that Lisa had persuaded Samantha to help out one of the sick kids. Lisa was wildly protective of her charges and the fact she’d relied on Sam, even for a few hours, was a big deal.

  There was still that tiny doubt at the back of his mind—mainly stemming from the comment that Lisa had made. Samantha was clearly here to do a job. She’d already told him she needed the money. There was nothing hidden, nothing untoward. But was Samantha like the rest of the women Lisa had alluded to? If Samantha wasn’t his nurse, would she only be interested in him because of his money?

  He couldn’t imagine for a minute that she was a fan or interested in the media. She hadn’t made a single comment like that. But money could be a big draw for people. Maybe he’d made a fool of himself by kissing her the other night. She hadn’t objected, though, and now it was eating away at him. Samantha seemed spunky enough to tell him not to make assumptions about her. He was cringing at the thought that he might have pushed himself on her unwillingly. Now he was beginning to doubt himself. Was the underlying attraction between them really there? Had it truly been there with any of his past relationships? Or had he just been too blind to see that women weren’t actually interested in him, only his money?

  It was the first time in his life he’d ever had thoughts like this. And he certainly didn’t like the way they were playing on his mind.

  Tonight would solve that. Tonight would let him forget about all that. Tonight would be about showing her around a city that he loved. It would be about introducing her to the local customs and traditions he’d known since he was a child. He ran his fingers through his hair one last time.

  * * *

  The smell hit her as soon as she stepped from the black four-by-four. ‘Oh, wow, what’s that?’ She sniffed the air hungrily. The whole area around her smelt good enough to eat.

  Mitchell grinned as he got out of the car. They’d been lucky to get parked as the streets were crowded around them. He moved out of the way of some locals and walked around next to her. ‘That is the smell of Tyrolean fritters, mixed in with the smell of gingerbread and punch.’ He held out his arm. ‘Welcome to the Christmas market.’

  She wrinkled her nose but couldn’t stop smiling. ‘Okay, you’ve got me. What’s a Tyrolean fritter? And should I really be eating anything like that?’

  ‘A Tyrolean fritter is the best thing in the world, especially if it comes with lingonberry jam.’

  She shook her head as she pushed her gloves on her hands. ‘I don’t even know what a lingonberry is.’

  He steered her through the crowds, past the floodlit white Imperial Palace set against the background of the Alps and the luminescent St Jacob’s Cathedral swathed in a multitude of coloured lights. They almost took her breath away.

  ‘Can we go inside the cathedral?’

  He nodded. ‘It won’t be open right now, but we can come back during the day. Would you like to see around it?’

  ‘Absolutely. I love buildings like this.’

  As they walked through the streets the sounds of Christmas carols echoed around them. It seemed like the whole of Innsbruck was in the Christmas mood. The entrances to every door were covered in garlands of evergreen boughs and
red velvet bows. Christmas-tree lights glittered in the windows all around them.

  The Christmas market in the old town was magical. Stars and fairy-lights were strung across the streets. Figures from well-loved fairy-tales gazed down from the windows of the old town houses.

  The smell of hot spiced wine surrounded them and they stopped at a large copper cauldron. Mitchell handed over some money and brought back two steaming cups. Just a sip was enough to catch in her throat and send a warm feeling down to the tips of her frozen toes.

  ‘What’s this called?’

  He smiled. ‘Glühwein. Any more than a cup will give you a major headache in the morning.’ There were other stands all around them and the air was filled with a whole host of tantalising and unusual aromas. Even in the space of a few paces she could smell everything from doughnuts to roasted chestnuts, chocolate and candied apples and garlic bread. He stopped in front of the next stand with some shiny brown pretzels and stuffed fritters, carefully placing his virtually untouched glühwein to the side.

  Four teenagers with bright pink candy floss wandered past them while they waited in the queue. Mitchell gestured towards one of the stuffed fritters, dusted it with sugar and wrapped it in a napkin before holding it out towards her. ‘I don’t want to spoil your appetite before dinner, but you’ve got to try this.’

  He was holding the wrapped fritter with both hands and she could smell the warm jam inside. She eyed the dusted sugar around it, ‘Please, don’t tell me this is one of your addictions?’

  He laughed. ‘Fortunately, no. But everyone who comes to Innsbruck at Christmas should definitely taste one of these. Think of it as one of the unwritten rules.’

  She bent forward and took a bite. It only took the briefest seconds for the taste explosion in her mouth. The fritter wasn’t heavy, as she’d feared. It was light and crispy, but the jam inside was much hotter than the mildly warm fritter. ‘Ow-w-w!’ she yelped, closing her mouth in shock, then opening it again quickly in the hope the cold night air would help with the jam burning her tongue. She panted, blowing out clouds of hot air into the icy night.